


The Avengers Do Christmas

by ameliaisbored



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas with the Avengers, Fluff, Implied Relationships, M/M, Tony is generous, author is vaguely impressed with herself, mistletoe is involved, this is so cheesy, tony goes to church for steve, very subtly implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 15:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2855654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ameliaisbored/pseuds/ameliaisbored
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas at the Avengers Tower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Avengers Do Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I started this the morning of Christmas eve and literally finished it at 11:30pm Christmas day. It's now 12:23 December 26th. Welcome to the first fic I’ve ever posted on ao3

* * *

 

Tony is noticing a pattern.

Tony Stark is a lot of things, and among those things is _observant_ , and _genius_ , so if there’s a pattern to be noticed, he will notice it.

The pattern in question has to do with holidays. Holidays are despicable, in his opinion. They’re days filled with consumerism, commercial bullshit, and he refuses to give in to it.

Or, at least, he _refused_ to give into it, emphasis on the past tense here, because ever since the Avengers Initiative busted, forced, shoved and brutally _axed_ its way into his life, he has been forced by five eager faces to participate in every holiday in existence. And Steve, poor, beautiful, sad, blue-eyed Steve loves Christmas, so of course, Christmas is no exception.

The first Avenger’s Christmas was a disaster. It ended with a drunken, eggnog fueled screaming match between Tony and Clint, several smashed mugs, a stocking full of feces of questionable origin, Thor’s hammer being thrown out the window onto Park Avenue, a frustrated Hulk, and a visibly upset Steve Rogers.

Natasha didn't talk to him and Clint for weeks.

The second Christmas wasn't as bad. After the stocking incident (which Tony will not take credit for, but everyone blamed him for anyways), Pepper flat out refused to let Tony purchase any gifts, so she took the liberty of buying his gifts for everyone and giving him credit. Steve didn’t cry that year, Natasha didn’t punch Clint in the face, Bruce didn’t hulk out, and Thor’s hammer remained on a coat hook.

Their third Christmas together was the year Coulson came back. That year was subdued. Natasha and Clint clung to Phil like static, and everyone kept flashing sad puppy dog eyes at him every chance they got. Tony gives Phil a key to a room in the tower as his way of saying _I’m glad you’re not dead_ without actually voicing it. Phil uncharacteristically hugs him, and Pepper bursts into tears.

Three Christmases together, and although Tony would never admit it, two of them were less than awful.

This Christmas, though, Tony has a full house, and it makes him uncomfortable how fine he is with it. With Rhodey, Jane Foster and her delightful intern Darcy visiting for the holidays, and Coulson moved in full time, Tony is finding that maybe Christmas is not the worst time of the year, but the least lonely time of the year. It also puts everyone in an inexplicably good mood.

He’s fine with it until Pepper and Natasha find their way into his workshop on the morning of Christmas Eve.

“Tony,” Pepper says gently.

Natasha, not so gently, snatches the modified laser gun he’s tinkering with out of his hands.

“JARVIS, I thought I put my workshop on lock down,” he says, blatantly ignoring the women, and picking up a bundle of heat seeking arrows he’s working on for Clint’s present. Let it never be said that Tony Stark is not a generous person.

“Miss Potts obtained the override codes, sir. My apologies.” JARVIS doesn't sound remotely apologetic.

“I want you changing those out every thirty seconds from now until the end of time, am I clear, JARV?”

"Crystal, sir," JARVIS says unconvincingly. Tony makes a note to remove all attitude simulators from his coding.

“Tony,” Pepper begins again, and Natasha begins pointing the laser gun at things, so Tony decides to pay attention. “We’re having a Christmas party.”

“Christmas party? Nobody told me about a Christmas party. No parties,” he says shortly, and makes grabby hands at his laser gun. Natasha points it at him and he lets his hands drop.

“Tony,” Pepper says for the millionth time, losing her patience. “I wasn't asking, I was informing.”

“Who’s coming?” he asks, not really wanting to know at all.

It’s Natasha who answers gleefully, listing off on her fingers. “The X-Men, Peter Parker, his aunt and girlfriend--”

“Just a few people,” Pepper interrupts.

“No!” Tony yells, grabbing the handful of arrows and brandishing the pointy ends at the two women. “Absolutely not!”

Pepper pats his hair and then with a shrug says, “Party starts at seven.”

Tony groans and slides off his bench onto the floor. Natasha skips away happily, taking the laser gun with her, and Pepper follows her out, heels clicking sharply against the floor. Just before she exits, she says, “Clean yourself up, Tony, we’re having guests.” By the time he blows a raspberry at her, she’s already gone.

* * *

 

Tony tries to hire a demolition company to bulldoze Stark Tower.

JARVIS hangs up the call before he can, and apologizes profusely. Instead of finding some other way to avoid the inevitable of the Christmas party, he begrudgingly drags on the nice sweater that was left out for him. He forgoes the slacks and Italian leather shoes in favor of his most comfortable pair of jeans and black slippers. To keep Pepper from being too mad at him, he digs out a pair of red and green striped socks to wear, because he can be _festive_. It's his party anyways, he can wear what he wants.

The party actually does start at seven, which means it's off to a bad start. No good party starts at the planned time, but here they are, at seven o'clock, with far too many guests having far too good of a time. The decorations are classy, the room decked out in twinkling white lights and sparkly silver trees, and Frank Sinatra is crooning out Christmas music softly in the background.

When Pepper spots him, her eyes immediately zero in on the jeans. With a tight smile, she says, "Really? Your lab jeans?" They have holes in the knees, and Tony finds great pleasure in wearing them against Pepper's orders.

She doesn't talk to him for the rest of the night.

When he spots a surly Nick Fury in the corner with a glass of whiskey and a pair of felt reindeer antlers on his head, he decides that this party is unreal, and whatever bad thing he did to deserve this, he will correct as soon as possible.

Even Reed Richards shows up. Smug, terrible, know-it-all _Reed Richards_. When Pepper said "a few people" this was not what he had in mind.

The entirety of the X-Men, and Fantastic Four, and every rogue superhero SHIELD could scrounge up was _not_ what he signed up for.

But he deals with it, like every gracious party host does. Clint and Natasha make a game of stealing people's wallets; Coulson and Fury talk quietly to each other all night, about whatever weird thing they could possibly want to talk about; Bruce lets Reed Richards talk at him for three hours; Thor starts the loudest drinking game Tony's ever witnessed, which is saying a lot, and the X-Men join in, which is a nightmare. In the end, Darcy Lewis drinks them all under the table (a frightening event), vomits violently, and abruptly passes out. Jane rushes her to the hospital to have her stomach flushed. A clearly inebriated Thor roars with laughter, slams his hand on a table (which breaks) and demands another round of drinks.

By this time, 99% of the party guests are nearing black out drunk, except for a handful of people which miraculously includes Tony. Even Pepper, classy, beautiful Pepper is tipsy, giggling and pink cheeked.

Tony and Rhodey spend an hour flagging down a fleet of taxi cabs to drive everyone home. He pays all the fares, tipping generously, and considers it his Christmas gift to them (except for Reed Richards, he “forgets” to pay Reed’s cabbie, and instructs him to take the long way around).

Back inside the tower, Tony is relieved to find only friends.

The lights are dim, and the large fireplace is lit and crackling softly. Natasha, Clint and Coulson are honest-to-God snuggling with each other on the couch, Bruce is gently explaining to Thor where Darcy and Jane are, Pepper is snoozing, slumped in an armchair, and Steve Rogers is watching them all with a content look in his eyes.

Rhodey tugs Pepper's heels off her feet, and Tony joins Steve in his place by the large windows. "We're never having a Christmas party again," Tony says.

Steve laughs quietly. "You sure do know how to throw a party though."

Tony shrugs. "This one was Pepper's doing. I prefer to spend Christmas with the few people I care about."

Steve nods. Tony can't help but notice how good he looks. It's no secret that Tony holds an ever burning inappropriate torch for Steve, but Steve remains blissfully unaware, and Tony tries not to think about it as much as possible. There's a lot things he would do to Steve that one should never do to an American icon.

Steve Rogers doesn't make it easy. Tony is trying to be a good person, he really is. He swallows his inappropriate crush, he doesn't stare at Steve's butt that often, and he doesn't jump Steve's bones despite how much he'd like to. But here Steve is, in a plush, dove grey sweater (that Tony got him last Christmas, he notes with a small thrill), with a Santa hat perched on top of his soft blonde locks, and a pair of khakis that hug his hips in unfair ways.

Tony swallows hard.

Steve clears his throat, and leans a little bit closer to Tony, so their shoulders are almost touching. Tony isn't sure if it's intentional. He isn't sure if he wants it to be intentional or not.

"You know," Steve starts, quietly. "Back when Bucky and I were young, Christmas was the best time of the year. Buck had a huge family. Cousins, aunts, uncles, they would all come out, and they always accepted me as part of the family." Tony looks over at Steve who's pointedly looking at the floor. It's not often that Steve talks about Bucky.

"My folks were never big on Christmas," Tony says, and Steve finally looks over at him with a sad look. "I never liked Christmas until all of you moved in." His cheeks burn red, he didn't mean to make it sound so sappy, but Steve doesn't seem to mind.

"I'm glad we could change your mind about it,” Steve says. Then he claps a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Steve begins to walk away, and as an afterthought, he turns and adds, “Merry Christmas, Tony.”

Tony just nods and watches Steve walk away.

* * *

Christmas morning in Stark Tower gets better every year.

This year, everyone finds themselves awake early, curled up in the common room, gazing sleepily at the grand fir tree in the center of the room. The star on the top almost brushes the high ceiling, and soft lights are twined around it. The first Christmas, Tony commissioned a team of decorators to deck the tree with themed ornaments. It was beautiful, but held no personality. Each year since, they’ve gained more and more ornaments.

The tree this year was a mix match of decorations. They bought every Avengers ornament they could possibly find in New York, and although Pepper grimaced at the cheesy baubles, she let them stay. Tony makes a note to design a set of Stark Industries ornaments for next year.

Tony is the last person to make his way into the common room, bundled up in a thick red robe. He sighs happily when Steve emerges from the communal kitchen with two steaming cups of coffee and hands one to him.

Darcy and Jane are back from the hospital, Jane looking haggard, and Darcy looking too chipper for someone who spent all last night getting their stomach pumped in the ER. Jane has her head in Thor’s lap as he runs his fingers through her hair lovingly, Rhodey has his hand resting on Pepper’s thigh (Tony totally called that one a long time ago -- he knows Rhodey is too polite to make a move since Tony and Pepper broke up, but Tony _totally_ called it), Clint is sprawled across Natasha and Coulson’s laps, and it’s all very lovey dovey.

“We doin’ presents or what?” Tony asks, settling down cross legged in front of the tree. He picks out a random gift from the monstrous pile and reads the tag. “To Natasha, from Santa.” He wiggles his eyebrows and tosses it to her. She rolls her eyes but there’s a small smile on her face as she tears into the black paper. Clint plucks the bow from the paper and sticks it to the top of her head.

Natasha pulls from the box a set of handguns and a box of darts. “Dart guns?” she asks, eyebrows raised.

“Poison dart guns. Simulates the pain of a real bullet, the effects last for fifteen minutes,” Tony says. He leans back against the armchair that Steve is sitting in. “Bruce and I spent weeks developing the formula.

“Try not to shoot someone more than five times in a one hour period, the results include, but are not limited to, death,” Bruce adds.

“Santa really outdid himself this year,” Natasha says with a sly grin. She begins loading a dart into one of the guns until Coulson picks it out of her hands with a, “No shooting Clint on Christmas.”

When Clint opens his present from Tony to find a new custom bow, he thinks Clint may actually cry. He immediately hugs the bow as Tony rambles off its features -- modified to respond only to Clint’s fingerprints, able to collapse into a small cube, along with a variety of new trick arrows including a bug scrambler arrow, heat seeking arrows, and an atomic bomb arrow (that Coulson immediately requisitions into his Pile of Confiscated Presents).

“I’m working on a portal arrow. It should be done some time in the next three years,” Tony says nonchalantly, and Clint throws himself at Tony, tackling him backwards in a wrestle-hug, blubbering out thanks. He thinks he feels Clint kissing his face.

From Tony, Thor gets a bottle of a 50-year-old Glenfiddich single malt scotch, Pepper gets a pair of next season’s Louboutins, and Rhodey gets collectors edition Iron Man and War Machine action figures. Rhodey rolls his eyes at the boxes, but the small smile and the way he squeezes Tony’s shoulder betray his appreciation. To Coulson, he gives a #1 Boss mug and a perfectly tailored Dolce and Gabbana suit modified to be super-hydrophobic and repel all liquids, such as blood, because he’s thoughtful like that.

When Bruce goes to open his present, Tony snatches it out of his hands and sets it off to the side. “Maybe open this one later,” he suggests, for the sake of Coulson not confiscating it. For some reason, he believes SHIELD may not find a cryogenically frozen Chitauri head to be prime Christmas gift material. Coulson and Pepper narrow their eyes. It’s a well placed concern.

Bruce nods complacently and opens his other present from Tony which is a pound of the best weed money can buy. Bruce laughs out loud. “This’ll keep the big guy tranquilized for a few hours.” They fist bump. Coulson groans.

To Jane, he gives a key card in a pretty little box. “A...key card? Thanks, Tony,” she says, being as polite as always. “To what?”

“Sublevel 3 of Stark Tower.”

“And... what is in Sublevel 3 of Stark Tower?” she asks, sounding more nervous than she should be.

“I’m glad you asked! A lab. Your lab. Bruce’s old lab that he since abandoned for the lab on Sublevel 2, to be precise.” Jane’s mouth drops open, and Darcy grabs Jane’s arm excitedly. “It has since been cleaned up, remodeled, and fitted with any and all state-of-the-art science toys you could possibly want. You have unrestricted access to it for any time you may find yourself in the Big Apple.”

Jane looks slightly stunned for a moment before thank-yous begin gushing out of her mouth at a non-stop pace.

“The key card is a formality, really. You don’t need it. JARVIS knows you and Miss Lewis have access. He can show you around later,” Tony says.

Darcy Lewis bounces in her seat and holds out her hands. “Okay, Stark, come on, what’s my present? It better be good because Natasha got me a new taser, and at this point I’m not sure you could really beat that.”

Tony likes Darcy. Instead of answering, he points to a box wrapped in neon green paper. She tears into it excitedly, and when she sees the brand new StarkPhone nestled inside, she makes a sound that can only be described as a moan.

“Oh, Tony Stark, you beautiful, sexy beast. This isn’t even on the _market_ yet. I could kiss you.”

“It’s a functioning prototype, actually. The first of its kind, so don’t break it. I will accept my payment in the form of kisses.”

Pepper whacks him in the face with a pillow and Thor tugs Darcy behind him protectively.

“You two are strictly not allowed to put your mouths anywhere near each other,” Pepper commands.

“Killjoys,” Darcy mutters, but she’s already entranced in the phone, making soft coos at every new function she discovers.

Natasha sits back against Clint, who is settled in the pile of his and Natasha’s new presents. “Okay, show off. Enough’s enough. We all know you’re better at presents than us, now what’d you get Steve?” Steve, who had been quietly watching all the excitement of opening Tony’s presents, pushes away from the window he’d been leaning against.

“Excellent question. I saved the best for last. JARVIS wouldn’t let me take it inside, so it’s down in the garage. Steve, if you will?” Tony invites, practically hopping over to the elevator. Steve follows Tony, and when he sees no one else following, he raises an eyebrow.

“You guys coming?” Steve asks.

Rhodey shakes his head. “We’ll leave you both to it.”

Natasha looks slightly disappointed, but Clint elbows her and whispers something that makes a Cheshire cat grin slide onto her face. The elevator doors close and as they descend, Cap smiles a little at Tony. “You really are a thoughtful person.”

Tony shrugs. “I like to share my wealth.”

Steve shakes his head. “It’s not about the wealth. Those were all thoughtful presents. You’re a nice person, Tony.”

Tony feels pride blossom in his chest, but he smothers it. “Yeah, well. Don’t tell the press.”

Steve opens his mouth to say something more, but the doors slide open into the garage level.

“Here we are,” Tony says, stepping out and letting Steve follow him as they walk through Tony’s cars.

“I hope you didn’t get me anything too--” Steve starts, but his voice dies as they stop in front of the present in question, which is covered in a white sheet. It’s very obvious what it is, but Tony thinks the sheet gives it a nice element of surprise.

He rips it off.

The air rushes out of Steve’s lungs in a surprised noise. “That looks like--”

“Your old bike?” Tony interrupts. “That’s because it is. The same exact one you used in the war, your 1942 Harley-Davidson WLA Liberator Army motorcycle. I cleaned it up, upgraded a few old parts and touched up the paint job, but it’s all still there.” Tony steps back so Steve can take his place crouching beside it, running his hands along the handles and the seat.

“How?” Steve asks, not looking up, and his voice sounds a little choked.

“Dad kept it. After you, well, died, dad kept a large majority of your stuff. Over the years he bought back all the rest of it from collectors, at least what isn’t in museums. I have it all, in boxes,” Tony says awkwardly, the moment suddenly incredibly vulnerable as he realizes the weight of his gift. “Which brings me to the second half of your present. I’m giving it back to you. The bike, the boxes. All your stuff, and some of Bucky’s too, because dad saved it. I guess it’s not a present, since technically it’s already yours.” He shrugs, not knowing what else to say.

Steve’s hands still on the bike. “You kept it? All those years, you kept my stuff?”

Tony is afraid, for a second, that Steve is angry. He knows he should have given it back to Steve sooner, he shouldn’t have waited until _now_ , but he had only happened upon it a couple months ago, when sorting through Howard’s belongings, a nondescript stack of boxes labelled either ‘Captain Rogers’ or ‘Lieutenant Barnes’. The bike was at the back of the storage unit, collecting dust. “I’m sorry, I should have--”

Steve stands and looks up at him, his blue eyes wide and wet looking. “No! Tony, don’t apologize.” Then Steve is reaching out, hands grasping Tony’s biceps, holding him at arm length. “Don’t _apologize_ , this is the best gift anyone has ever gotten me.”

It only feels natural, then, to pull Steve into a hug, and Tony is so sick of doing the appropriate thing, so he gives in and yanks the Captain into his arms. To his surprise, Steve hugs back, hard, pressing Tony into his broad chest.

Tony has always been known to take opportunities that are presented to him, and so he breathes in deep, inhaling Cap’s clean, fresh scent. It’s heady, it makes his head spin, and then Steve is pulling away too soon.

“Don’t tell SHIELD about this. There’s a few things in that storage unit I probably shouldn’t have,” he says faintly. Steve laughs loudly, face splitting into a grin.

“Do you want to go for a ride?” Steve asks, and before Tony can even think about it, he’s nodding.

“JARV, open the garage entrance, the Captain and I are going out.”

Steve’s face is pure childish excitement, and before Tony can even brandish the helmet at him, he’s on the bike, revving the engine. He glances at Tony. “I don’t need the helmet, you do,” he says, serious now, sounding more like Captain America than Steve Rogers, but the smile is still there. Tony puts the helmet on, just for the smile.

“I’m wearing my pajamas,” Tony points out, climbing on the back of the bike anyways and wrapping his arms around Steve’s torso.

“Who cares?” Steve asks.

Any answer Tony could have had was drowned out the second the bike lurched into action, pulling out onto Park Avenue. As Steve speeds up to pass a yellow light, Tony laughs out loud, heart racing, and grips the front of Steve’s shirt tighter.

Here, on the back of Steve Rogers’ motorcycle, hugging as close to Steve as he possibly can while the cold, winter air whips around him, Tony Stark is happier than he has ever been in his entire life.

* * *

It’s later on Christmas day, long after Steve and Tony return from their joyride, with pink cheeks and giddy smiles, that Steve shows up in the common room, dressed nicely with ironed pants and impeccably coiffed hair.

Darcy, Tony and Natasha are lazing on the couch watching Die Hard, when Natasha lets out a low whistle, and Darcy purrs. “Got a hot date?” Darcy asks while simultaneously shoving a handful of caramel corn into her mouth.

“Disgusting,” Tony shoots at Darcy.

“I’m going to church,” Steve says, and Darcy considers this while chewing her popcorn.

“I am oddly turned on by this,” she mumbles through the mouthful. Natasha pinches her knee with a “Behave, _devushka_.” Darcy quiets and settles for another handful of popcorn.

“Would any of you like to come?” Steve asks, while patting down his jacket pockets for his wallet, keys, and phone. It’s shockingly reminiscent to Tony’s father, and _okay, yeah, no, bad mental image_.

“Yeah,” Tony pipes up before either of the women can reply. “I’ll come.”

Natasha gives Tony a quizzical look, and Darcy says, “Your Wikipedia page says you’re an atheist,” matter-of-factly.

“Your Wikipedia page says shut your mouth,” Tony snipes back, already getting off the couch.

“I love you and I like you, Tony Stark,” Darcy says, swatting at his butt as he leaves.

Tony does go to church with Steve, and he only realizes this is just him wanting to spend more time with Steve when they’re in a taxi on their way to church.

It’s only when they’ve pulled up to St. Paul the Apostle Church in Manhattan that Tony realizes _this may have been a mistake._

He’s not religious. Not in any way, shape or form. He considers himself close friends with the God of Thunder, and still in no way is he a pious man, but Steve is a proper God-fearing American citizen, and if he goes to church on Christmas, Tony can go to church on Christmas.

It’s not as crowded as he assumed it would be, and it’s a small mercy when Steve lets them sit in the back.

There’s a lot of standing, and kneeling, and mumbling along to prayers, but the priest’s sermon is filled with great metaphors about making investments in love, and in family, and Tony thinks that for all the great monetary investments that he’s made in his life, none of them will ever live up to the investment he’s put in the Avengers. The one investment he profited the most out of, the one that turned into a family.

There’s a part where everyone starts saying the Our Father prayer, and holding hands. Tony is more than pleased when Steve’s hand gently takes his own, and _Jesus Christ you are in a church get some self control._ He spends the entire prayer praying to Thor that he doesn’t get an inappropriate hard-on in church. From _hand holding_.

After that, while people are getting up for communion, a donation basket is passed around. Tony can do donations. He pulls out a few hundred dollar bills from his wallet and casually drops them inside, passing the basket on to the next person. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Steve who tries to hide his smile and bumps shoulders with Tony.

The parting prayer is more mumbling on Tony’s part, but as they walk out the front doors of the church afterwards, he feels somehow renewed. Maybe his lack of faith in God isn’t changed, but his faith in the Avengers, his family, and in _Steve_ feels affirmed.

On the steps in front of the church stands the priest in all his priestly garb, blessing people and offering greetings. Steve grabs Tony’s hand and tugs him lightly in the direction of the priest.

“Father Ramsey,” Steve greets, dropping Tony’s hand to shake the priest’s. “Merry Christmas.”

“Steven,” the man greets. He’s older, with salt and pepper hair, and a gentle smile. “Merry Christmas to you too. I see you brought a friend.” He turns his smile on Tony.

“Tony Stark,” he says, stepping forward and offering his hand.

Father Ramsey shakes it and smiles knowingly. “I’ve heard all about you,” he says.

“Hopefully not too much,” Tony says awkwardly, which makes the priest laugh kindly.

“Steven speaks highly of you, and I am familiar with the work you and your group do around the city. It means a great deal to have heroes like yourself and Steve show up here,” Father Ramsey says. “It gives the people hope.”

“Our pleasure,” Tony says, feeling uncomfortable with the openness of the words.

“Have a blessed holiday, Steven, Tony.” Father Ramsey, with a parting smile, moves on to the next parishioners.

Steve flags down a cab, and  they duck inside it, eager to escape the cold. It’s quiet for a few minutes on the drive back before Steve’s hand catches Tony’s where it rests on the seat in between them.

“Tony,” Steve starts softly. “Thank you for today.”

Tony lets an easy grin fall onto his face. “No problem. It’s my job to give the people hope.”

It makes Steve smile, but adopting a more serious look again he says, “Not just for coming to church. Although, thank you for that too. I know you don’t necessarily believe in God, but it means a lot for you to come to support me, and the church.”

Tony twists his hand to twine his fingers with Steve, soaking up every bit of fleeting contact he can get. “I don’t believe in God, but I do believe in Captain America.” He shrugs. “Plus, I wanted to see where you disappear to every Sunday.”

“Thank you for the bike, and the presents. For Christmas in general,” Steve says, and he lets it rest at that. The rest of the ride is comfortable silence, and Steve doesn’t pull his hand away from Tony’s.

Back in the tower, as they’re pulling off their coats and JARVIS is reading out an email to Tony, they find Pepper and Rhodey waiting for them in the common room, and Natasha and Darcy moving on to Die Hard 2.

Steve moves on to the kitchen to make hot chocolate, and Tony settles himself in next to Natasha and Darcy once again.

“How was church?” Rhodey asks lightly.

“When JARVIS said you were going to _church_ did he mean... _church_ church?” Pepper prods, from where she’s sat next to Rhodey who not-so-subtly has an arm twined around her back.

“Yes,” Tony says gravely. “ _Church_ church.”

“You don’t believe in God.” Pepper crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “You have an ulterior motive, Tony Stark.”

“An ulterior motive? Tony? Never,” Natasha says, eyes not straying from the screen. Tony steals a handful of the never-ending-bowl of caramel corn.

“He wants into Captain America’s pants,” Darcy points out, just as enraptured with Bruce Willis’s on screen performance as her red-headed companion.

“What about my pants?” Steve asks, coming back into the room with two mugs of hot chocolate. He hands one to Tony and sits down next to him.

“Nothing,” Tony, Pepper, and Rhodey say at the exact same time that Natasha says, “Tony likes them.”

They end up getting half way through Die Hard 3: Die Hard With a Vengeance, before everyone is yawning. Darcy has curled herself up with her head in Natasha’s lap, Pepper’s face is pressed against Rhodey’s chest, who is struggling to keep his eyes open, and even Steve is stretching and slouching down into the comfortable couch cushions.

“Bed,” Tony announces, getting up and grimacing at the stray caramel corn that falls onto the floor.

Darcy cracks an eye open and mumbles out a, “Good night, Tony Rogers.” He “accidentally” whacks her head with his knee as he walks by. He hears her mewling out complaints, but is distracted by Steve saying, “Hold the elevator.”

JARVIS does so, and closes the doors behind them, even as Pepper and Rhodey are getting up and stretching. The only sound is the soft pings as they climb up the floors.

Steve’s floor is before Tony’s and the door slides open. JARVIS offers a polite, “Merry Christmas, Captain Rogers,” as Steve steps out.

As an after thought, he turns back. The doors stay open. “Tony?”

Before he can get out what he wants to say, JARVIS interrupts. “Miss Potts and Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes are requesting to use the elevator.”

“Tell them to hold on, J,” Tony orders.

The lights on Steve’s floor turn on dimly. It’s not that often that Tony gets inside Steve’s floor. Apart from when he first designed it, he’s never fully explored it. He can see now that Steve keeps the place homey, with pictures, and books, and thick rugs thrown over hardwood floors. He modeled it after his own penthouse on the top floor, an expanse of openness, and windows, and modern architecture, but somehow Steve transformed it into a place so purely _Steve_ that Tony is slightly stunned.

With a hint of pleasure, he can see from their spot by the elevator doors that Steve kept the American flag that Tony had jokingly made the interior decorators hang on the wall above his bed.

Just as Steve is starting to shift uncomfortably, Tony turns his attention back to him. “You had to say something,” he points out.

Steve opens his mouth, closes it briefly, opens it, then finally decides on, “Look up.”

Hanging above Tony, in the elevator doorway, is a bunch of delicate mistletoe, tied with a red ribbon. “Hm,” Tony says, staring up at it. “That is mistletoe.”

“Pepper’s doing,” Steve says softly, and Tony looks away from the mistletoe to see Steve standing a lot closer now.

“Oh,” Tony says.

He looks at the mistletoe.

He looks at Steve.

“Oh,” Steve mimics, eyes searching Tony’s, looking for any sign that this is okay.

“Are you going to--” Tony tries.

Steve cuts him off by surging forward and pressing his lips hard to Tony’s. Tony stands shock still for one second before his brain comes back online, registering that _oh my God, Captain America is kissing me._

He kisses back then, sighing gently into it, tangling his fingers in Steve’s hair, savoring the taste of his mouth, and the feel of Steve’s broad palms against his back.

Steve pulls back fractionally for air. “Merry Christmas, Tony.”

Tony leans up to press a small kiss to Cap’s nose. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

And right here, in this moment, Tony thinks that maybe, just _maybe_ , Christmas isn’t terrible. It’s not about the Christmas parties, or the presents, or the decorations. It’s about family, and friends, and surrounding yourself with love.

It’s about the best investment Tony Stark has ever made.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i can be found at http://officialbrucebanner.tumblr.com/
> 
> thank you for reading this absolutely twaddle~


End file.
